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»NPV.  OP  GALIF.  UMART.  LOt  AMG1LT8 


BY  A  SON  TO  HIS 
MOTHER 


Issued    for     Private 
Circulation 


By    THOMAS    GRAHAM    GRIER 


Printed    by    The   Wagner   &    Hanson,    Company,    Chicago 


Dedicated    to    Our    Best    Friends, 
Our    Mothers 


COPYRIGHTED,  JUNE,  1906,  BY 
THOMAS  GRAHAM  GRIER 


r  r  e  r  a  c  e 

[ETTERS  from  a  traveler  in  foreign  countries 
must  be  of  merit  to  obtain  the  attention  and 
hold  the  interest  of  the  general  public. 

Letters  from  a  friend,  who  is  seeing  new 
sights  and  scenes  carry  with  them  the  personal  element, 
which  allows  the  reader's  imagination  to  make  up  for  defi- 
ciencies in  literary  style  and  incompleteness  of  detail. 

I  am  indebted  to  many  friends  for  my  opportunities  of 
travel,  but  my  appreciation  could  only  be  expressed  by  an 
occasional  souvenir  postal  card. 

There  is  so  much  to  see,  and  so  little  time  to  write. 
While  my  friends  had  an  interest  in  my  journey,  there 
was  no  one  so  close  or  interested  as  my  mother,  and  my 
letters  were  written  to  her. 

Now  that  time  permits,  fourteen  of  these  letters  are 
being  sent  to  you.  As  you  read  them,  just  turn  back  the 
pages  of  time,  and  travel  in  spirit  with  me. 

Many  of  the  illustrations  are  reproductions  of  souvenir 
postal  cards  and  pictures  sent  home  with  the  letters. 

THOMAS  GRAHAM  GRIER. 


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LETTER  I. 

Key  West  to  Havana — Incidents  on    the   Passage 
and  on  Landing; — Wreck  of  the  "Maine." 

HAVANA,  February  16,  1906. 

The  distance  between  Key  West  and  Havana 
is  about  ninety  miles.  Late  in  the  evening  of  the 
fourteenth  of  February  we  steamed  out  of  Key 
West.  My  berth  was  in  a  state-room  opening  out 
on  the  upper  deck,  and  even  though  it  offered 
opportunity  for  ventilation,  it  was  so  hot  that  sleep 
was  almost  impossible. 

At  five  on  the  morning  of  the  fifteenth  I  was 
up;  the  noise  of  the  deck  hands  washing  the  deck  was 
more  persuading  than  an  alarm  clock  for  early  ris- 
ing. At  seven  A.  M.  I  viewed  a  cloud  bank  on  the 
distant  horizon,  thinking  it  was  Cuba;  but  no,  an 
hour  must  pass.  In  the  meantime  I  breakfasted 
heartily  and  was  in  nowise  crowded,  for  many 
were  sick,  "overcome  by  the  heat."  It  looked  like 
"mal  de  mer, "  but  we  were  charitable  and  allowed 
the  delusion  to  remain. 

The  gentle  roll  and  pitch  of  our  slow  moving 
vessel,  as  she  crossed  aslant  the  ground  swells, 
made  me  think  of  the  early  days  when  we  boys 
paddled  our  canoes  out  in  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
when  the  steamboats  passed,  to  catch  the  "rollies." 
After  breakfast  I  gazed  over  the  rail  and  watch- 
ed the  flying  fish  disport  as  if  they  were  swal- 
lows, and  now  and  then  a  larger  fish  rise  above  its 
element.  The  flying  fish  flew  full  fifty  feet,  if  not 
more,  and  were  a  curious  sight  to  me. 

At  eight-thirty   A.  M.    through  a  misty  rain 


we  saw  the  shores  of  Havana  (Cuba).  No  poetic 
pen  has  ever  described  them  in  a  rain;  plain  prose 
was  amply  sufficient.  The  glistening  sunlight  and 
elusive  tints  that  gild  the  guide-book  descriptions 
were  missing. 

We  passed  Morro  Castle  and  the  Punta,  and 
came  to  anchor  near  the  wreck  of  the  "Maine" 
Tuesday,  the  eighth  anniversary  of  the  sinking  of 
the  "Maine."  For  this  reason  we  found  the  wreck 
decorated  with  a  United  States  flag  and  garlands 
of  flowers.  Several  patriotic  societies  celebrated  the 
day,  and  a  number  of  functions  were  held.  We 
saw  the  decorations  as  we  lay  in  the  harbor,  but 
missed  all  other  details. 

With  the  rain,  the  confusion  of  tongues,  the 
strangeness  of  everything,  the  search  for  quarters, 
we  had  our  hands  too  full  to  find  out  about  every- 
thing, and  contented  ourselves  with  reading  it  in 
the  newspaper  the  next  day. 

After  the  Doctor  had  passed  us  all  as  having 
good  health,  we  were  taken  on  shore  in  a  lighter; 
we  would  call  it  a  steam  yacht.  A  confusion  of 
passengers  and  baggage  followed.  Having  been 
through  Custom  Houses  before,  I  extricated  my 
companions  and  self  from  the  unknown  trials  quickly. 
Our  baggage  in  the  possession  of  the  express 
companies,  we  had  nothing  to  do  but  find  our  ho- 
tel, the  Pasaje  (the  "Pasach-he"  is  what  it  sounds 
like).  We  reached  there.  It  is  one  thousand  me- 
ters, a  kilometer,  from  the  wharf;  but  as  the  rush 
was  so  great  we  could  not  secure  rooms,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  look  elsewhere,  which  we  did. 

Our  trunks  and  suit  cases  had  been  sent  to  the 
Pasaje  Hotel;  after  an  hour's  search  we  found  our 
suit  cases.  The  Cubans  do  not  care  to  work  hard 
and  the  express  companies  are  really  not  shining 
examples  of  activity;  in  fact,  it  is  too  hot  to  work 
hard  in  Havana.  We  were  told  not  to  expect  our 
trunks  until  late.  Havana  had  just  had  automo- 


Entrance  of  the  Harbor. 


Wreck  of  the  "Maine.1 
9 


bile  races;  the  Knights  of  Columbus  were  there  on 
an  excursion,  and  the  papers  in  the  United  States 
had  by  their  articles  brought  hundreds  of  tourists 
to  the  island.  On  this  most  auspicious  day  the 
city  was  deluged  both  with  people  and  rain.  I  was 
told  it  never  rained  in  Havana  in  February,  but 
when  you  are  traveling,  the  unexpected  always 
happens. 

With  our  suit  cases  we  were  fixed  for  a  time, 
and  trusted  to  the  morrow  to  bring  forth  the  trunks. 
Mind  you,  it  was  raining,  I  had  no  umbrella,  did 
not  know  the  town,  and  was  not  as  yet  a  Spanish 
student. 

As  the  weary  bird  in  its  flight  seeks  rest,  we 
had  to  light  somewhere.  'Twas  the  Quinta  Ave- 
nida,  translated  the  Fifth  Avenue  .Hotel,  a  Cuban 
family  hotel,  where  much  Spanish  and  little  Eng- 
lish was  spoken. 

The  rooms  are  twenty  feet  high,  twelve  feet 
wide  and  thirty  feet  long,  and  the  doors  and  win- 
dows extend  from  the  floor  almost  to  the  ceiling, 
and  are  locked  with  strings  or  little  hooks.  The 
first  floor  has  store  and  warerooms;  the  second 
floor,  rooms,  kitchen,  etc.;  the  third,  rooms  only. 
The  beds  are  thus:  Springs  like  cot  springs,  half 
a  quilt,  a  blanket,  a  sheet;  then  you  get  in,  and 
then  a  sheet  and  a  bed-spread.  The  dampness  in 
Havana  does  not  make  a  mattress  desirable. 

The  gas  is  turned  off  at  eleven  P.  M.  and 
candles  are  used.  You  can  pay  extra  and  have  one 
electric  light.  The  floor  is  of  marble  squares  of 
black  and  white,  and  is  scrubbed  every  day. 
There  is  no  hot  water  for  washing;  the  rooms 
do  not  have  private  baths,  and  only  two  bath  rooms 
on  a  floor  for  the  hotel. 

The  people  are  polite  and  clean  in  my  hotel; 
but,  horrors!  we  have  fleas,  (that  is,  I  seemed  to 
have  them  all),  and  I  was  bitten  all  over  and  thought 
it  was  the  hives; but  tush!  one  gets  used  to  it.  They 

10 


do  not  bite  any  now;  my  blood  was  too  thick.  Ants 
are  plenty  on  the  table,  but  you  must  not  mind 
them.  You  will  find  fleas  and  ants  at  times  in  most 
of  the  public  places. 

Well,  we  ate  a  Cuban  breakfast  at  eleven-fifty- 
nine  A.  M. ,  rode  on  the  street  cars  in  the  P.  M., 
ate  dinner  at  seven  P.  M.,  walked  on  Obispo  and 


Second  floor  of  the  Quinta  Avenida,  showing  one  side  of  the  covered 

porch  which  extended  around  the  four  inner  sides  of  the  court. 

Three  sides  were  used  as  dining-rooms. 


Jl 


O'Reilly  streets  in  the  evening,  retired  at  ten  P.  M. 
and  thus  ended  the  first  day  in  Havana,  and  our 
rest  was  that  of  the  shipwrecked  mariner  after  a  safe 
harbor  has  welcomed  him. 


A   Merchant    Cart,  taken   near  the  wharf  where  we  landed   when   we 
arrived  at  Havana. 


LETTER  H. 

Sight- See  ing — The    Plaza    de    Armas — Senate 
Chamber,  President's  Palace,  Cathedral,  Etc. 

HAVANA,  CUBA. 

On  the  morning  of  the  16th  our  trunks  had  not 
arrived,  so  we  had  to  "get  busy."  I  had  on  a  heavy 
winter  suit  and  heavy  winter  underwear;  that  trunk 
of  mine  had  clothes  in  it  I  wanted.  The  sixteenth 
was  a  mid  summer  day  and  no  mistake.  I  found 
the  express  office  and  through  the  kindness  of  an 
American,  the  man  in  charge,  some  animation  was 
injected  into  the  driver  who  had  brought  the  trunks 
up  from  the  steamer;  life  enough  to  make  him  drive 
his  wagon  around  to  several  places,  while  I  follow- 
ed up  the  clew  on  foot.  I  found  the  trunks  stored 
in  the  trunk  room  of  the  Pasaje  Hotel,  held  for 
charges,  but  as  I  had  a  receipt  with  me,  they  gave 
them  up.  The  Express  Company  refused  to  accept 
any  payment  for  hauling  them  to  my  hotel,  the 
Quinta  Avenida,  because  it  had  been  their  mistake. 

During  my  hunt  the  driver  of  the  wagon  did 
nothing  to  help,  but  would  calmly  loll  against  any 
convenient  support  and  eat  oranges.  I  was  hot 
clear  through,  but  could  not  say  anything  that  Mr. 
Driver  understood.  However,  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore I  had  changed  my  clothing  to  habiliments  more 
suitable  to  the  climate,  and  set  out  to  see  the  won- 
ders of  this  unique  city. 

My  first  attempt  at  sight-seeing  on  the  16th 
was  to  try  a  street  car  ride.  Havana  at  present  is 
not  on  the  harbor  alone,  but  extends  for  several 
miles  along  the  sea-coast  or  gulf-coast  of  the  Gulf 

13 


of  Mexico  from  the  harbor  entrance  westward,  and 
makes  a  beautiful  detour  like  an  inverted  bow.  The 
harbor  for  a  distance  of  twelve  hundred  meters  is 
narrow,  and  then  spreads  out  into  a  large  inland 
bay.  Havana  is  surrounded  on  the  North,  East  and 
Southeast  by  water.  You  can  take  a  car  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  city  and  ride  along  about  ninety  per  cent 
of  the  wr  :er  front.  The  street  cars  are  large  and 
comfortable.  It  costs  seven  cents  in  Spanish  or 
five  cents  in  United  States  money  for  a  ride.  In 
many  places  the  view  of  the  water  front  is  cut  off 
by  warehouses  and  buildings,  but  the  street  car  ride 
gives  one  a  good  idea  of  the  city.  I  have  taken 
many  street  car  rides  since  my  first  and  have  tried 
every  line  in  the  city;  all  the  cars  are  electric  and  go 
fast.  I  have  made  many  excursions,  and  will  rapid- 
ly pass  over  the  places  visited  without  reference  to 
dates. 

Strolls  up  and  down  Obispo  and  O'Reilly  streets 
were  frequent.  They  are  the  principal  shopping 
streets  of  the  town,  and  are  in  the  old  part  ot 
Havana.  These  streets  run  parallel  and  start  at  Mont- 
serrate  Square,  at  which  point  the  old  wall  of  Hava- 
na had  one  of  its  gates;  they  extend  Eastward  for 
about  a  half  mile.  Within  one  block  of  the  water 
front  and  near  their  Eastern  end,  O'Reilly  forms  the 
North  side  of  the  "Plaza  de  Armas"  and  Obispo 
the  South  side. 

The  Plaza  de  Armas  is  an  open  square  and  was 
reserved  when  Havana  was  founded  in  1519.  It 
was  a  place  where  the  soldiers  could  drill,  and  the 
surrounding  space  was  for  the  erection  of  the  mili- 
tary and  civil  buildings.  To  this  spot  the  tourist 
should  first  come,  for  here  is  the  best  starting  point 
to  commence  his  observations. 

On  the  East  of  the  Square  stands  a  small  cha- 
pel called  the  Templete,  and  by  it  is  a  ceibia  tree. 
The  tree  is  large,  but  legend  has  it  that  it  has 

14 


Obispo  Street. 


A  view  of  O'Reilly  Street  on  which  is  located  the  store  of  my  class-mate  ,  J. 

I«ychenheim.     Everyone  in  Havana  knows  where  No.  6  O'Reilly 

Street  is;  there  is  where  you  get  kodak  films  and  Mr. 

Hibbard  shows  you  how  to  take  pictures. 

15 


sprung  from  the  first  or  parent  ceibia  that  cast  its 
protecting  shade  over  the  founders  of  the  city  when 
they  held  the  first  mass. 

On  the  North  side  stands  the  Senate  Chambers 
and  the  Fuerza;  on  the  West  the  President's  palace. 
The  Fuerza  is  an  ancient  Spanish  fortress  begun  in 
1538,  and  has  an  interesting  history  as  a  fort  and  as 
a  residence  of  governors.  In  1900  the  Americans 
tore  down  the  walls  surrounding  the  Fuerza,  filled 


Plaza  de  Armas— President's  Palace  in  the  Background. 

up  its  moats,  repaired  and  restored  the  old  fort,  and 
it  is  now  prized  as  a  memorial  of  ancient  Havana 
and  is  used  as  a  museum. 

The  Senate  building  is  large  and  contains  many 
rooms  and  is  arranged  very  much  as  are  similar 
buildings  in  the  capital  cities  of  the  United  States. 
It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  population  of  the 
Cuban  Republic  is  less  than  two  millions. 

The  President's  palace,  formerly  the  home  of 

16 


Patio  of  President's  Palace. 


After  you  enter  the  President's  Palace,  this  is  a  view  of  one  side  of  the 
interior  Court  or  Patio.    Beautiful  flowers  are  in  the  center. 

17 


the  Governor  General,  is  a  large  two  story  struct- 
ure, built  around  an  inner  court  or  patio.  It  is  a 
well  preserved  building  and  much  of  the  furnishings 
and  finish  are  elegant.  How  much  of  the  building 
may  have  been  rebuilt  is  difficult  to  say;  but  accord- 
ing to  information  given  us  here,  an  old  church 
used  to  stand  on  this  spot,  and  was  torn  down  in 


The  Cathedral. 

1777  to  make  room  for  the  Governor  General,  the 
now  President's  Palace. 

The  Templete  is  said  to  have  contained  the  re- 
mains of  Columbus.  This  spot  was  marked  in  1747 
by  a  stone  obelisk.  We  were  not  able  to  visit  the 
interior  of  the  Templete,  but  it  contains  several 
paintings  and  some  relics  of  Columbus. 

A  walk  of  two  blocks  East  and  two  blocks 
North  brought  us  to  "The  Cathedral"  (La  Cate- 


The   Templete. 


A  reproduction  of  an  old  picture  of  IYa  Fuerza.     As  you  stand  facing  the 

Templete,  this  fort  is  towards  your  left.     One  of  the  points 

of  interest  around  the  Plaza  de  Armas. 

19 


dral  de  la  Virgen  Maria  de  la  Conception) .  This 
is  a  dark  and  dingy  building,  with  a  dome  and  two 
towers  looking  as  ancient  as  the  Pyramids,  but 
only  dating  back  to  1704;  it  was  built  by  the  Jesuits. 
Though  uninviting,  the  exterior,  the  mosaics,  the 
paintings  on  the  walls  and  dome,  the  altar  and  gen- 
eral finish  of  the  interior,  hold  the  attention.  The 
remains  of  Columbus  were  said  to  have  been  inter- 
red in  this  cathedral  for  over  a  century,  and  to  the 
public  the  cathedral  is  frequently  referred  to  as 
Columbus  Cathedral.  These  remains,  to  which 
I  haye  twice  referred,  were  taken  to  Seville,  Spain, 
in  1898  or  1899,  and  are  now  in  the  Cathedral  of 
Seville. 


View  along  Central  Park,  Havana. 


20 


LETTER  III. 

The  Ponta — The    Prado — The   Malecon — Hotels 
and  Theatres. 

The  wharves  of  the  city  lie  on  the  harbor  side, 
on  what  you  might  call  the  Eastern  and  Southeast- 
ern edge  of  the  city,  and  are  mainly  along  the  shore 
of  the  ancient  walled  city  of  Havana. 

The  Church  of  San  Francisco,  in  1762  or  1763, 
when  the  English  occupied  Havana,  was  used  for 
the  troops,  and  after  the  evacuation  was  considered 
desecrated  and  not  suitable  for  its  original  purpose. 
It  is  now  a  part  of  the  Custom  House.  This  is  locat- 
ed about  four  blocks  South  of  the  Plaza  de  Armas. 

I  took  a  few  passing  glimpses  of  the  fagade  of 
the  "San  Francisco  de  Paula,"  about  three-quar- 
ters of  a  mile  South  of  the  Cathedral.  There  were 
other  churches  that  we  visited  on  excursions  with 
guides,  but  by  the  time  you  have  looked  at  the  high 
points  in  any  one  line,  the  rest  sort  of  passes  by 
you  like  a  moving  picture;  and  I  must  get  back  to 
some  of  the  points  outside  of  the  ancient  walled-in 
city.  There  is  a  section  of  the  wall  left;  it  is  just 
about  equal  to  a  good-sized  brick  pile.  You  look 
at  it  and  say,  "Oh,  yes,  perhaps  sometime  I  will 
be  sorry  that  I  did  not  pick  up  a  rock  or  brick 
and  bring  it  home." 

At  the  Northern  extremity  of  Havana  is  the 
Punta  Castle,  a  square,  low-lying  fort,  with  things 
cut  in  its  sides,  or  arrow-like  projections  on  its  cor- 
ners. This  little  bunch  of  masonry  is  just  across 
the  harbor  entrance  from  Morro,  and  is  called 

21 


One  of  the  Wharf  Scenes. 


All  that  is  left  of  the  old  City  Wall. 
22 


Punta   because    Punta  means  "point."     It  had   its 
share  in  making  history  and  now  is  an  ornament. 

If  you  should  look  on  the  map  you  would  find  the 
word  "Malecon"  right  alongside  of  the  Punta,  and 
I  am  a  little  mixed  about  it;  but  the  Spanish  mean- 
ing of  Malecon,  as  near  as  I  can  find  out,  is  "Sea 
Wall."  From  the  Punta  and  Malecon,  West  in  a 
horse-shoe  bend,  is  a  beautiful  drive  along  the  Gulf 
coast  for  about  half  a  mile,  and  this  leaves  the  coast 
and  extends  out  toward  the  Vedado. 

Extending  South  from  the  Punta  is  the  Prado; 
it  is  very  wide  and  for  eight  blocks  straight.  At 
the  point  where  it  strikes  Central  Park  it  deflects 
slightly,  passing  along  Central  Park,  past  the  high- 
priced  well  known  hotels,  ending  at  Colon  Park. 
This  is  the  street  on  which  to  do  your  driving  and 
walking,  when  you  have  on  your  good  clothes;  or 
if  you  want  to  see  the  styles,  you  get  a  chair  and  sit 
out  on  the  side-walk  and  gaze  as  the  people 
pass  by. 

On  this  street,  near  the  center  of  the  city,  are 
the  Telegrafo  Hotel,  Inglaterra  Hotel,  Pasaje  Ho- 
tel, the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  "Mr. 
Foster's"  office,  the  American  Club,  the  Spanish 
Club,  the  Pairet  Theatre,  the  National  Theatre,  the 
Tacon  Theatre,  and  near  to  this  center  are  other 
hotels,  theatres,  express  companies  and  railroad 
stations.  Here  is  where  you  see  the  people,  except 
on  music  nights,  then  many  gather  on  the  Malecon. 
I  will  try  to  mention  a  few  other  places  visited  in 
my  next  letter. 

There  is  a  beautiful  white  building  near  the 
Malecon  on  the  Prado.  It  is  known  as  the  Mir  Mar 
and  is  operated  as  a  high  grade  hotel,  but  I  was 
informed  that  it  was  originally  built  by  prominent 
New  York  gamblers  for  a  "swell  lay-out,"  but 
the  authorities  would  not  permit  it. 


23 


The  Prado.     This  is  a  view  looking  North.    The  buildings  on  the 
left  "are  shown  in  the  cut  below. 


Central  Park.    A  view  looking  West  towards  the  National  or  Tacon 

Theatres,  Inglaterra  Hotel.  American  Club  and  Telegrafo 

Hotel.    The  Prado  passes  in  front  of  these  buildings 

and  separates  the  Park  from  the  buildings. 

24 


LETTER  IV. 

Still    Exploring  —  The   Botanical    Gardens  —  The 

University — Slaughter  of  the  Innocents 

— Firemen's  Monument. 

I  have  visited  the  Vedado;  have  gone  there  in 
the  street  car  and  by  carriage.  It  is  a  beautiful  sub- 
urb overlooking  the  Gulf.  Many  of  the  houses  are 
large  and  beautiful,  and  the  gardens  difficult  of 
description;  flowers  in  profusion  and  of  varieties  un- 
known to  me.  These  gardens  look  like  Northern 
"hot-houses"  out  of  doors. 

I  visited  the  Botanical  Gardens,  but  was  be- 
wildered; the  avenues  of  Royal  Palms  were  magnifi- 
cent, and  I  could  comprehend  them;  but  when  I  tell 
you  that  there  are  over  three  thousand  different 
native  plants  inside  the  massive  iron  fence,  you  can 
see  one  hardly  knows  where  to  begin.  The  Havana 
University  is  here,  and  the  gardens  belong  to  it. 
The  President  of  Cuba  has  a  summer  home  adjoin- 
ing the  gardens. 

I  visited  the  Trocha,  a  fine  hotel  some  distance 
out  of  town.  It  made  a  good  terminus  or  turning 
point  for  an  evening  drive.  Another  point  that  one 
goes  to  out  in  the  Western  end  of  the  city  is  the 
Colon  Cemetery.  About  four  o'clock  you  see  many 
funerals  coming  in.  The  cemetery  has  many  mon- 
uments, the  two  most  noted  being  the  Students' 
Monument  and  the  Firemen's.  The  Students'  Mon- 
ument was  erected  in  honor  of  the  students  of  the 
Havana  University  who  were  deliberately  murder- 
ed by  the  Spanish  Volunteers.  The  story  simply 

25 


makes  one's  blood  boil.  A  Spanish  Colonel  of  Vol- 
unteers published  some  derogatory  remarks  about 
Cuban  women;  he  was  challenged  to  a  duel  by  a 
Cuban  and  was  killed.  He  was  buried  in  the 
Espada  Cemetery  in  Havana.  A  crowd  of  medical 
students  visiting  the  cemetery  one  day  were  loiter- 
ing near  his  tomb,  when  one  of  them  said  some- 
thing reflecting  on  the  dead  Colonel.  It  was  repeat- 
ed, enlarged  upon  and  forty-three  of  these  young- 


students*  Monument  in  Colon  Cemetery;  a  memorial 

tablet  commemorating  the  same  sad  event 

is  down  near  the  Punta. 

26 


sters  were  arrested.  They  were  accused  of  defacing 
the  tomb,  tried  and  acquitted;  tried  again  with  a 
packed  court-martial,  eight  were  sentenced  to  death, 
the  oldest  only  sixteen  years;  the  rest  sentenced  to 
hard  labor. 

The  father  of  one  of  the  boys,  who  was  immensely 
wealthy,  offered  all  for  his  boy's  life.  The  vindic- 
tiveness  of  the  Spanish  Volunteers  was  not  to  be 
thwarted,  and  on  the  27th  of  November,  1871,  the 


A  Cuban  Home.     There  are  some  poorer  than  this  but  many  much  hand- 
somer, in  fact  some  are  almost  palaces.    This  represents  a  high 
grade  cottage.     The  flowers  around  it  are  most  beautiful. 

eight  boys  were  shot  at  a  spot  out  near  the  Punta. 
A  memorial  tablet  was  placed  on  the  spot  the  27th 
of  November,  1899.  The  son  of  the  Colonel  who 
started  all  the  trouble  came  to  Cuba,  examined  his 
father's  tomb,  and  made  an  affidavit  that  it  had 
never  been  disturbed.  The  Spanish  Cortes  also  pro- 
nounced the  boys  guiltless;  so  you  can  see,  with 
such  evidence  after  the  murder,  that  the  Cuban 


whose  home  is  Cuba  and  not  Spain,  can  have  no 
love  for  the  Spanish  Volunteer. 

The  Firemen's  Monument  is  in  memory  of  the 
death  of  thirty  volunteer  firemen,  killed  by  an  ex- 
plosion of  powder  May  17,  1890.  A  full  sized  por- 
trait in  marble  of  each  fireman  is  carved  around  the 
base  of  the  monument. 

The  Cubans  have  many  fine  monuments  and 
statues,  also  a  few  old  forts.  I  am  going  to  skip 
all  I  have  not  mentioned  so  far,  except  Morro  and 
Cabanas,  and  will  write  a  short  letter  about  them. 


• 


The  Fireman  Monument  in  Colon  Cemetery,  one  of 

the  sights  shown  to  visitors, 

28 


LETTER  V. 

Off  to  Matanzas  —  Scenes  on  the  Way — Out 
Hoosier  Captain  —  Caves  of  Bellmar. 

On  the  evening  of  February  20  I  resolved  to  be 
awake  the  following  morning  at  six  in  order 
to  take  the  train  for  Matanzas.  Good  resolves  are 
not  always  kept,  but  this  occasion  demanded  that 
no  slip  be  allowed,  so  carefully  at  two  A.  M. 
I  arose  and  consulted  my  watch,  and  again  at 
three  and  regularly  thereafter  about  every  hour. 
And  sufficient  it  is  to  say  at  five-fifty  A.  M. 
I  stood  before  my  glass,  face  lathered,  razor 
in  hand,  making  the  beginning  for  the  day. 
I  might  add  that  my  "habitation"  is  on  a  street 
that  begins  business  at  two  A.  M.  Noises  come 
in  bunches,  floating  through  the  open  portals  of 
my  palace  room — noises  distinct  and  varied,  yet 
in  the  aggregate  of  such  respectful  proportions 
as  to  demand  the  attention  of  the  most  languid. 
"Music,"  'tis  said,  "has  charms  to  wroo  the  fickle 
god  of  sleep,"  so  on  other  less  important  occasions 
I  endeavor  to  imagine  that  the  gentle  and  less 
gentle  vibrations  that  agitate  the  murky  atmos- 
phere of  the  Southern  early  dawn  are  but  the 
echoes  of  a  comic  opera. 

At  six-thirty  A.  M.  I  sat  down  to  the  ample 
repast  of  one  orange,  one  glass  of  boiled  milk, 
colored  with  the  essence  of  coffee,  and  three  dimin- 
utive slices  of  bread.  We  of  the  island  of  Cuba 
call  this  breakfast.  You  of  colder  and  harsher 

29 


climes  would  pity  the  poor  innocent  wanderer  who 
is  compelled  to  witness  such  a  travesty,  and  to  also 
play  the  part.  But  anon,  'tis  thus  when  one  sallies 
forth  into  foreign  parts  to  gather  the  experience  of 
the  world  and  break  into  the  manners  and  customs 
of  other  people.  Don't  pity  any  of  us,  for  think  of 
the  fun  we  will  have  in  telling  of  it  after  the  exper- 
ience is  of  the  past,  and  we  say  "when  we  were  in 
Cuba." 

At  seven  A.  M.  I  boarded  a  street  car  which 
was  marked  "San  Francisco,  Muelle  de  Luz," 
and  was  wafted  swiftly  through  the  narrow  streets 
to  the  Luz  wharf,  where  I  was  to  take  the  ferry  at 
seven-thirty  A.  M.  for  an  eight  o'clock  train  for 
Matauzas.  I  had  paid  $6.20  for  a  round  trip  ticket, 
and  at  the  wharf  I  was  to  meet  a  guide,  to  whom 
I  was  to  pay  $4.80  and  join  an  excursion  party;  the 
$4.80  was  to  pay  for  all  expenses  of  the  day,  lun- 
cheon, or  as  they  call  it  here  "second  breakfast," 
carriage  or  volante  ride,  admission  to  cave,  etc. 
By  the  way,  the  "etc."  of  an  excursion  are  intang- 
ible, but  the  promoter  of  an  excursion  always  insists 
that  they  be  paid  for;  and  it  is  well,  because  no  one 
in  search  of  the  novel  and  curious  would  like  to  see 
their  guardian  scout  left  in  the  lurch  on  finances; 
yet  if  you  should  fail  to  get  the  "etc."  of  the  excur- 
sion, it  is  not  good  form  to  ask  that  any  change  be 
returned.  The  charge  is  pro  bono  publico,  which 
means  that  it  being  more  blessed  to  give  than  re- 
ceive, it  is  for  the  public  good  that  you,  as  one  of 
the  public  in  this  expense,  should  consider  the 
blessing  you  obtain  by  giving. 

Our  guide  of  the  day — Oh,  how  pleasantly  do 
I  think  of  him! — from  Illinois  he  hailed.  We  called 
him  Captain,  the  Hoosier  Captain.  Good  humor 
enveloped  him,  as  also  did  much  perspiration.  The 
day  was  hot  and  humid,  and  the  dear  Cap  busy  and 
moist,  jokey  and  cheerful.  He  spoke  Spanish  as 


well  as  English,  and  handled  his  Spanish  as  grace- 
fully as  a  man  eating  peas  with  a  knife;  but  he  was 
on  deck  and  "Johnny  on  the  spot,"  and  worth  dou- 
ble the  price.  If  not  the  best  posted  guide,  which 
one  may  question,  he  was  the  best  for  the  money 
this  side  of  anywhere.  His  English  was  respectable, 
but  at  times  unique  and  picturesque.  He  was  like 
an  old  hen  with  a  brood  of  chicks — a  most  motherly 
guide.  Everything  with  him  was  "right" — "all 
right,"  "all  right,"  and  "right  this  way"  and 
"right  that  way." 


Cuban  Village  on  the  way  to  Matanzas. 

As  I  seated  myself  on  the  upper  deck  of  the 
ferry-boat,  I  glanced  at  a  lady  some  fifteen  feet 
from  me,  whose  face  was  strangely  familiar,  and 
while  trying  to  place  her  I  was  interrupted  by  a  fa- 
miliar voice,  "Hello,  Tom."  It  was  our  old  friend 
Harry  Knox  of  Chicago.  He  was  doing  Havana, 
etc.,  with  his  mother,  Mrs.  Floyd  T.  Logan,  and 
Floyd,  Jr.,  also  of  Chicago.  With  eager  joy  I 

31 


joined  them,  and  the  21st,  22nd,  23rd  and  the 
morning  of  the  24th  was  made  most  pleasant  in 
their  company.  I  was  their  guest  at  many  a  good 
meal.  (My  hotel  has  a  good  reputation  for  meals, 
but  then  it  is  strictly  Cuban  in  its  menu.) 

Well,  to  come  back.  The  ferry  is  leaving  the 
Havana  side  of  the  harbor,  and  steaming  swiftly  to 
where  we  take  the  cars.  We  pass  the  wreck  of  the 
"Maine,"  and  fingers  point  and  tongues  wag  as  we 
swiftly  come  and  go  by  that  relic  of  the  grim  past. 


A  Country  Family  in  Cuba.    View  on  the  way  to  Matanzas. 

Ashore,  "right"  at  the  railway  station,  we  embark 
for  our  sixty  mile  ride  through  picturesque  Cuba  to 
Matanzas.  the  home,  the  seat,  the  nurse  of  revo- 
lution and  patriotism.  The  spirit  of  Matanzas  freed 
Cuba  from  her  bondage  of  mediaeval  Spain.  Like  a 
panorama  the  country  passed  by  as  we  sped  toward 
our  destination — rolling  land,  well  tilled  fields,  ave- 
nues and  clumps  of  royal  palms,  old  villas  and  Cu- 

82 


ban  huts,  tropical  fruits  and  vegetation  in  abun- 
dance, sugar-cane  by  the  mile — corn,  our  own  Indian 
corn,  being  also  a  part  of  the  ever-changing  land- 
scape— blue  sky,  fleecy  clouds,  rainbow  tints  in  the 
sky  and  on  the  land,  rich  dark  green  foliage,  deep 
red  earth,  Oh,  so  red  and  red,  all  mixed  in  the  most 
artistic  harmony.  The  little  naked  babies,  the  sim- 
ply white  clad  men  and  colored  clad  women,  the 
heavily  laden  two  and  four-wheel  ox  teams,  the 
mules,  the  men  on  horse  back,  the  freight  cars  full 


Ox  Cart. 

of  sugar-cane,  all  increased  the  interest  in  the  scene. 
The  distance  to  many  of  these  objects  from  our 
point  of  view,  no  doubt,  added  to  the  enchantment. 
Our  nostrils  aided  not  our  sight,  and  our  sight  was 
not  keen  enough  to  depict  aught  but  beauty.  The 
ride  was  one  of  beauty,  and  the  entire  scene  was 
described  by  the  simple  expression  repeated  and 
repeated,  "Oh,  isn't  it  beautiful!" 

We  arrived  in  Matanzas    in   about  two  hours. 

38 


Our  train  had  attached  to  it  a  special  car.  It  was 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  President  of  the  Chi- 
cago &  Alton  Ry.  and  party.  Of  course,  Harry 
Knox  and  I  had  to  take  possession  of  it;  the  best  is 
none  too  good  for  the  hustling  wanderer,  but  we 
gave  it  up.  The  conversation  between  the  student 
of  English,  the  conductor  or  trainman,  and  the  two 
students  of  Spanish,  H.  K.  and  T.  G.,  was  volu- 
minous and  polite;  but  there  is  no  one  so  stupid  as 


In  Front  of  the  Hotel  where  we  Breakfasted. 

he  who  does  not  desire  to  be  informed,  and  alas!  we 
were  too  able  to  comprehend,  and  really  we  did  fare 
as  well  in  the  end. 

"Well,  well,  here  we  are  all  right."  This  was 
our  Hoosier  Captain.  "Will  you  walk  or  ride  to  the 
hotel?' '  Our  party  decided  to  walk,  the  better  to  see 
the  old  town.  Oh,  whew!  It  was  a  hot  day  and  we 
had  in  the  excursion  twenty-two  people,  average 
weight  about  one  hundred  and  ninety  pounds  or 

84 


more.  To  bring  up  the  average  were  three  men, 
well  described  as  our  fat  friend,  our  fatter  friend, 
and  the  fattest  friend — he  who  did  not  walk. 

We  arrived  at  the  hotel  pretty  near  en  masse, 
and  the  genial  guide,  Hoosier  Captain,  said, 
"Walk  right  into  the  setting-room."  Our  fat  friend 
said,  "I  do  not  know  why  anyone  should  walk 
into  the  setting- room;  it  is  hot  enough  to  hatch 
eggs  outside."  After  the  party  had  an  opportu- 
nity to  wash,  breakfast  was  served.  You  would 
call  it  luncheon.  We  all  had  more  or  less  of  an 
appetite  except  Floyd  and  waded  through  our  Cu- 
ban meal.  Now,  a  Cuban  meal  is  a  good  thing,  but 
some  people  have  had  their  digestive  apparatus  and 
palate  trained  so  differently  that  it  is  difficult  to  ap- 
preciate the  beauties  of  the  unknown.  I  always 
want  a  pilot  to  steer  my  course  on  the  meal  propo- 
sition. 

After  dinner — I  forget,  after  breakfast — our 
party  went  out  and  tried  a  volante.  We  boys  sat  in 
the  seat  and  sat  on  the  horse — the  ladies  tried  the 
seat.  Our  permanent  rig  for  the  drive  was  a  Mont- 
gomery Ward  top  surrey.  Floyd  Logan  was  our 
driver  at  first,  and  then  Harry  Knox  took  the  rib- 
bons. We  drove  en  trail,  eight  vehicles,  through 
the  narrow  streets  of  this  quaint  town;  houses 
nearly  all  one  story,  windows  and  doors  reach- 
ing from  roof  to  floor;  windows  barred  like  a 
prison,  doors  with  smaller  doors  in  them,  and 
nearly  all  ajar,  with  some  one  or  more  per- 
sons gazing  out  at  the  passing  show.  Children  of 
all  ages  playing  on  side  walks  and  street;  many  clad 
in  but  one  garment,  and  sometimes  not  all  of  that; 
others  in  neat  linen  suits,  bare-headed  and  bare- 
footed, and  here  and  there  one  togged  out  in  the 
finest  blue  sash,  blue  socks,  white  or  colored  dress, 
the  picture  of  a  fond  mother's  darling  dressed  for 
Sunday  school.  The  less  these  children  had  on 
and  the  dirtier  they  were,  the  happier  they  seemed; 

35 


but  this  is  merely  a  supposition,    not  based  on  any 
corroborative  interviews  with  the  youthful  natives. 

"Here  we  are  'right'  at  the  Central  Park. 
There  is  the  Government  house,  there  is  the  Span- 
ish club,  etc.  Here  is  where  they  executed  the 
prisoners  (for  details  refer  to  the  Guide  Book),  and 
now  we  will  see  the  handsome  villa  which  Gener- 
al Wilson  occupied.  They  now  keep  fighting  chick- 
ens there" — Quotation  from  the  Hoosier  Captain. 
Driving  on  through  the  city,  across  a  deep  ravine, 
over  a  high  bridge,  we  obtained  a  view  of  the  har- 
bor, a  bay  five  miles  long  and  one  and  a  half  miles 
wide.  We  still  kept  driving  through  country  roads 
up  steep  hills  towards  our  villa.  Going  was  good  for 
a  while,  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  first  mate  of  our 
land-going  vessel  yelled  "Rocks  ahead!"  Messrs. 
Fat,  Fatter  and  Fattest  had  run  aground.  The  horse, 
being  a  dumb  brute,  had  to  give  expression  to  his 
feelings  in  sign  language,  which  he  did  by  refusing 
to  go  on.  His  remarks  were  so  eloquent  that  Fat 
and  Fatter  disembarked,  but  Fattest  stuck  to  his 
craft,  and  by  much  whipping  the  horse  took  up  his 
lightened  task. 

The  house  we  visited  was,  at  one  time,  a  hand- 
some residence,  with  beautiful  tropical  gardens,  but 
is  occupied  now  only  by  care-takers,  and  where 
once  was  naught  but  beauty  and  grandeur,  is 
sordidness  and  decay.  Large  and  spacious  rooms 
full  twenty  feet  high,  the  interior  trimmed  with 
marble  and  tile,  surrounded  an  immense  "patio" 
or  court.  In  front  was  a  magnificent  porch,  and 
surrounding  the  court  along  the  four  inner  walls 
was  a  covered  court,  thus  permitting  the  passage 
from  any  room  to  another  without  going  in  the  rain 
during  wet  weather.  The  house  was  two  rooms 
deep  in  the  front  and  sides.  Old-fashioned  kitchens 
in  the  rear  on  one  side,  designed  for  charcoal  fires, 
were  in  style  just  like  those  seen  in  the  ruins  of 
Pompeii.  An  entrance  between  the  kitchen  and 


immense  lavatory  was  large  enough  to  permit  the 
passage  of  vehicles,  presumably  volantes,  as  in  the 
earlier  days  these  were  the  fashionable  carriages. 
Every  evidence  was  there  of  former  luxury  and 
comfort,  and  present  privation  and  ruin.  In  the 
gardens  roses  were  in  bloom;  beautiful  colored  fol- 
iage of  unknown  plants  and  trees  ;  coffee  plants 
were  much  in  evidence,  and  many  plants  that  in  the 
North  we  see  growing  only  in  hot-houses.  In  the 
rear  to  the  left  was  a  cock-pit  and  a  large  number 


Cuban  Milk  Vender 

of  game  roosters.  We  were  shown  this  as  one  of  the 
sights  of  Matanzas.  Our  Hoosier  Captain  said, 
"Walk  'right'  up  and  step  in  the  ring,"  and  the  fat- 
test man  offered  to  fight  the  Captain  if  he  did  not 
supply  us  with  a  cock  fight.  Our  fat  man  referred 
to  this  villa  as  the  "Chicken  Fight  House." 

We  went  from  here  to  see  a  view  of  the  You- 
mari  valley.  The  hill  was  470  feet  high,  and  we 
could  see  for  miles  a  most  fertile  plain,  tilled  and 

37 


cultivated,  and  again,  "Oh,  isn't  it  beautiful!"  We 
visited  the  church  of  Montserrate,  situated  on  this 
hill,  a  copy  of  the  church  of  Montserrate  in  Spain, 
built  in  880,  which  is  said  to  contain  a  wooden 
image  of  the  Virgin  and  Child. 

We  retraced  our  drive  and  reached  the  shore, 
giving  us  another  and  different  view  of  the  bay, 
and  after  a  level  drive  of  a  mile,  passing  the  bathing 
beach,  we  turned  abruptly  to  the  right,  ascending 
the  roughest  of  roads  and  steepest  of  hills.  This 


Typical  Cuban  Country  Cart. 

road  is  called  Dog  Tooth  road  on  account  of  the 
jagged  coral  rocks.  We  were  bound  for  the  Caves 
of  Bellmar — (and  it  was  still  hot).  The  hill  was  so 
rough  and  steep  that  it  was  necessary  for  three  of 
our  party  to  walk.  When  we  reached  the  entrance  of 
the  cave  we  found  a  frame  building,  and  a  modern 
electric  light  plant,  and  a  primitive  lemonade  and 
soft  drink  stand.  (A  primitive  stand  is  good  enough 
in  an  emergency.)  A.S  we  drove  up,  old  Cap  was 
standing  prominently  in  the  foreground,  counting 

38 


his  money  and  his  brood.  It  was  one  of  the  amus- 
ing sights  to  see  the  Cap  count;  he  counted  his 
crowd  at  least  a  dozen  times  at  different  places,  and 
he  counted  his  tickets  and  his  money.  This  per- 
formance he  seemed  to  go  through  everywhere  we 
stopped. 

The  caves  are  high-vaulted  chambers,  con- 
nected by  low  and  narrow  passages;  some  passages 
enlarged  since  the  caves  were  discovered,  1861. 
Formerly  the  only  way  to  see  the  caves  was  by 
lighted  torches,  and  they  have  so  smoked  the  for- 
mations that  much  of  the  beauty  is  spoiled.  It  is 
now  lighted  by  electricity,  but  the  guides  still  carry 
torches  for  safety.  The  formations  are  of  limestone, 
much  the  same  as  in  the  Mammoth  Caves,  and 
many  odd  and  fantastic  shapes  are  suggested  to  the 
imaginative  mind.  There  is  no  ventilation,  and 
though  it  was  hot  above,  the  close,  humid  atmos- 
phere of  the  caves  was  oppressive,  and  the  per- 
spiration simply  rolled  off  us  slim  ones;  off  the  fat 
ones  it  was  worse.  Our  fat  friend  thought  he  was 
stuck  in  a  narrow  passage  and  yelled,  "I'm  stuck, 
can  neither  go  forward  or  back."  It  was  rather 
startling  at  first,  but  he  was  a  joker.  Mrs.  Knox 
felt  the  heat  very  much  in  the  cave.  While  we  were 
in  the  caves  it  rained,  and  the  air  felt  cool  and  re- 
freshing when  we  came  to  the  surface. 

As  soon  as  we  could  we  started  back.  Our 
carriage  had  become  more  or  less  wet,  and  I  just 
sat  on  the  seat  for  an  instant;  after  that  I  braced 
myself  and  sort  of  floated  two  inches  above  the 
seat.  Harry  drove.  Our  chauffeur,  a  native  boy 
who  said  he  was  eight  years  old,  rode  on  the  steps 
of  the  carriage,  and  was  tickled  so  that  he  could 
hardly  contain  himself  because  Harry  Knox  whis- 
tled at  the  horse  through  his  teeth.  We  were  anx- 
ious to  reach  the  station,  drove  fast,  and  raced  a 
volante  containing  three  Graces.  In  the  morning 
they  had  been  the  crispest,  cleanest,  daintiest 

39 


things  on  the  island,  clean  on  the  start — but  no 
remarks  on  the  finish.  Heat,  dust,  rain,  mud, 
deep  red  mud,  railway  travel,  volante,  walking, 
cave;  this  is  enough  to  depict  the  finish,  yet  they 
were  happy. 

Cap  counted  us  again,  had  us  get  our  tickets 
signed,  put  us  on  the  train.  Floyd  has  not  a  strong 
appetite,  and  balks  at  many  things  to  eat,  except 
candy.  He  has  not  eaten  much  all  day,  and  when 
the  train  stopped  he  bought  two  large  pieces  of 
cake.  It  was  amusing  to  see  Harry  take  a  bite — 
of  course,  just  to  see  if  it  was  all  right  for  Floyd  to 
eat,  then  we  all  had  to  try  it.  Floyd  thought  he 
would  like  to  buy  a  sandwich,  and  took  what  he 
thought  to  be  one,  only  the  man  insisted  on  get- 
ting forty  cents  for  it,  and  Floyd  discovered  he  was 
buying  a  piece  of  white  cheese. 

We  reached  the  ferry  without  any  incident, 
except  that  we  were  counted  again.  We  secured 
carriages  after  much  difficulty,  as  the  trolley  line 
was  out  of  service  for  over  an  hour,  and  arrived  at 
the  Inglaterra  Hotel  tired  but  satisfied.  I  went  to 
my  rooms,  changed  my  attire,  bathed,  and  then 
dined  with  Mrs.  Knox,  Mrs.  Logan,  Harry  Knox 
and  Floyd  Logan,  and  spent  an  enjoyable  and  pleas- 
ant evening. 


40 


LETTER  VI. 

The  Jai-lai  Game  —  A  Fascinating;  Game  of 
Chance. 

The  other  evening  I  went  to  seethe  "Hi-li" 
game  (spelled  Jai-lai).  The  building  is  enormous; 
holds  thousands  of  people.  I  was  with  a  party  of 
five  and  we  were  held  up  for  two  dollars  a  seat  in 
a  box.  We  had  a  good  view  of  the  courts.  The 
game  is  hand- ball  with  curved  scoops  for  racquets. 
The  court  is  175  ft.  long,  36  ft.  wide,  and  I  believe 
the  side  and  end  walls  are  about  70  ft.  high. 

They  start  out  first,  two  men  playing  against 
each  other.  They  have  about  eight  different  men, 
and  as  soon  as  one  player  misses,  another  takes  his 
place  until  one  player  can  win  six  times.  This  is 
tame,  and  it  looks  as  if  they  were  just  warming  up, 
waiting  for  the  "ready  money"  to  come  in. 

About  nine-thirty  the  crowd  thickens;  a  new 
game  starts.  Four  players  get  on  the  courts,  two 
with  white  shirts  and  two  with  blue  shirts.  They 
are  to  play  a  game  of  thirty  points  to  win.  These 
men  get  $5,000  a  year  for  playing  this  game,  and 
only  work  three  months,  but  have  to  quit  when  they 
are  thirty  years  old.  They  give  out. 

Now,  this  is  where  I  let  you  into  the  secret  of 
the  game.  The  people  bet  on  either  the  white  or 
the  blue;  but  wait,  it  is  great.  The  owners  of  the 
place,  a  stock  company,  get  ten  per  cent  on  all  the 
wagers.  Why,  that  is  like  having  money  left  to  you. 

Well,  the  floormen  in  red  caps  halloo  out  some- 
thing that  sounds  like,  "This  train  forSquedunk," 

41 


etc.;  but  it  is  the  odds  on  the  game,  "ten  to  eight," 
the  blues  the  favorites.  The  game  progresses;  the 
blue  creeps  ahead  slowly;  the  odds  change  until  it 
is  ten  to  two;  the  score  twenty-three  for  the  blues 
and  the  whites  only  twelve.  I  remark  to  my  compa- 
nions that  anyone  is  foolish  to  wager  their  money 
on  the  whites.  I  guess  I  must-have  made  a  num- 
ber of  sage  remarks  on  the  game  previous  to  this, 


Post  Card  View  of  Jai-lai  Game,  taken  from  a  position  near  my  Box. 


for  a  Frenchman  who  was  in  the  box,  and  to  whom 
I  had  given  an  extra  chair  for  his  companion,  leaned 
over  and  said  in  fair  English,  "Do  not  bet  on  the 
favorites;  they  seldom  win."  I  did  not  even  bet  a 
nickel;  I  just  waited.  The  whites  made  two  points, 
the  blues  one;  the  whites  three  points,  the  blues 
one,  and  at  last  it  stood  29  to  29,  and  the  whites 
won  and  the  house  won,  and  most  of  the  crowd  lost. 
My,  what  a  noise!  But  the  crowd  will  come  back 
again. 

42 


This  is  the  only  gambling-place  running,  and 
as  soon  as  its  charter  expires  it  goes  out  of  exist- 
ence, and  all  of  its  property  reverts  to  the  gov- 
ernment. I  do  not  know  whether  I  was  any  more 
excited  than  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  but  I  was  tired, 
and  on  the  dot  of  eleven  was  at  my  hotel,  at  eleven- 
seven  asleep,  and  slept  about  as  sound  as  Rip  Van 
Winkle. 


Street  Cleaner. 


LETTER  VIL 


A  Fishing  Expedition — Salutes  the  "Sumner" — A 
Lively  Time  with  the  Shark  but  no  Luck. 

One  afternoon  an  American  told  me  that  for 
$1.50  I  could  join  a  party  that  night  for  a  shark 
fishing  expedition.  At  six-thirty  P.  M.  I  was  at 
the  wharf;  found  the  launch  and  party.  Within  two 
hundred  yards  the  United  States  transport  '  Sum- 
ner"  lay  at  anchor,  her  clean  cut  lines  and  dead 
white  sides  making  a  beautiful  picture  for  an  Amer- 
ican to  feast  his  eyes  on.  While  standing  theie  the 
"Sumner"  lifted  anchor  and  slowly  drifted  down 
the  harbor.  In  a  moment  of  impulse  I  reached  the 
whistle-cord  and  saluted  the  ship  of  my  country, 
and  most  graciously  the  big  ship  returned  my  salute 
in  the  deep  bass  of  its  powerful  whistle.  We  were 
near  enough  so  that  we  could  be  plainly  seen,  and 
all  the  passengers  (guests  of  the  government) 
waved  their  salutes.  We  had  done  the  proper  thing 
and  from  our  start  the  harbor  followed  suit.  We 
waited  and  watched  until  the  hull  of  the  "Sumner" 
became  a  speck  on  the  horizon,  and  then  started 
after  our  prey,  the  hyenas  of  the  sea. 

Darkness  was  settling  on  Havana  and  the  lights 
were  twinkling  in  increasing  numbers,  looking 
like  gems  glistening  on  a  ground  of  navy  blue. 
The  street  car,  brilliantly  lighted,  moved  along  the 
harbor's  edge  like  a  thing  of  life,  and  a  spot  adja- 
cent to  the  Punta  looked  like  a  sun-burst.  Over- 
head the  sky  twinkled  with  stars,  and  the  smooth 
surface  of  the  harbor  reflected  all  the  beauty  of  the 

44 


night  and  made  what  was  entrancing  just  doubly 
so.  Old  Morro,  with  its  beacon  light,  marked  the 
spot  for  us  to  cast  our  line. 

We  made  straight  across  the  harbor  to  the  north- 
ern end  of  Cabanas,  towing  behind  two  natives  in 
a  boat.  At  Cabanas  a  small  boat  awaited  us  with 
bait — dead  and  rotten  fish  from  one  to  two  feet  in 
length.  We  took  the  small  boat  in  tow  and  one 
additional  native,  going  to  a  spot  near  Morro,  and 


Hotel  Boats  lying  at  moorings.     Our  shark  fishing  expedition  started 
from  this  point. 

right  in  the  channel  we  cast  our  anchor.  Our  lines 
were  like  clothes-lines,  our  hooks  twelve  inches 
long,  and  the  hook  three  or  four  inches  across,  with 
dangerous  looking  barbs.  The  hooks  were  fast- 
ened to  chains  three  feet  long,  and  the  chains  then 
attached  to  the  lines.  The  man  in  the  small  boat 
baited  the  hooks,  threw  out  about  fifteen  dead  fish, 
then  took  the  ends  of  the  lines  and  rowed  about  one 
hundred  feet  away  from  the  launch  and  dropped  the 

45 


hooks  right  in  the  channel.  The  habit  of  the  shark 
is  to  follow  ships  up  the  channel,  picking  up  the 
offal. 

It  is  unnecessar)'  to  follow  up  each  catch  and 
failure.  We  did  not  land  a  single  shark  the  night 
I  was  with  them,  much  to  my  pleasure.  We  hooked 
many,  but  they  all  got  away.  We  lost  three  hooks; 
in  one  case  the  shark  had  bent  the  barb  flat,  and 
made  marks  in  the  metal  as  if  it  had  been  hit  with 
a  hammer.  In  another  case  the  shark  swallowed 
the  hook  and  three  feet  of  chain,  and  the  rope  was 
cut  as  clean  as  with  a  knife.  We  raised  a  number 
above  the  water.  In  one  instance  we  had  the  head  a 
foot  out  of  water  on  one  side.  The  body  was  under 
the  boat,  and  the  flopping  of  the  tail  on  the  other 
side  of  the  boat  completely  drenched  several  of  the 
party.  We  tried  to  harpoon  it,  but  for  some  reason 
failed,  and  I  think  most  of  the  party  gave  a  sigh  of 
relief  when  the  line  parted  and  down  into  the  deep 
sea  our  shark  disappeared — the  white  belly,  the 
dark  glistening  sides,  the  wicked  fin,  and  the  most 
beautiful  blue  eyes,  small  and  glittering,  blue  as  the 
deep  colored  sky  on  a  clear  day,  but  as  wicked  and 
fiendish  as  you  could  wish. 

When  a  shark  takes  the  bait  he  plays  with  it 
for  a  moment  and  then  starts  off  like  a  locomotive. 
If  you  have  not  much  slack  in  the  line,  the  first 
tightening  of  the  line  may  part  it.  I  held  the  line 
for  an  instant,  but  was  glad  to  let  it  go,  as  it  whiz- 
zed past  through  my  hand;  after  that  I  let  the  three 
hired  fishermen  do  the  work.  One  of  our  party  had 
the  flesh  torn  from  the  inside  of  his  hands.  We 
fished  until  eleven  o'clock.  It  was  the  only  time 
during  my  visit  to  Havana  that  I  saw  a  native 
Cuban  in  a  hurry.  Every  time  we  hooked  a  shark 
the  native  fishermen  hopped  around  the  deck,  their 
heads,  their  arms,  their  feet  all  in  motion;  to  watch 
them  was  alone  worth  the  trip. 

When  I  look  back  at  this  one  incident  of  travel, 

46 


it  is  with  pleasure — the  passing  of  the  "Sumner," 
the  beauty  of  Havana  at  night  from  the  haven,  the 
majesty  of  Morro  and  Cabanas,  the  beauty  of  all, 
the  excitement  and  novelty,  made  it  a  time  to  be 
remembered. 


47 


LETTER  VIII. 


Music   at    the   Prado — Enjoyed  by   Thousands  in 

Gala  Attire — Attend  the  Balls  and  Learn 

the  "Danza." 

During  the  past  two  weeks  my  time  has  been 
so  fully  occupied  that  on  Sunday  I  fell  asleep  at  one 
P.M.  and  never  woke  up  until  four  P.  M. 

The  city  of  Havana  has  a  beautiful  wide  street, 
the  Prado,  double  drive-way  and  park  in  the  center. 
It  is  more  than  a  kilometer  long  and  less  than  a 
mile.  It  leads  from  the  Central  Park  and  main 
hotel  location  to  the  Punta. 

The  Punta  is  an  old  fort  erected  on  a  point  of 
land  opposite  Morro  Castle,  and  is  on  the  right  hand 
side  of  the  harbor  entrance  when  coming  into  the 
harbor.  At  the  Punta  begins  the  Malecon  (the 
Spanish  name  for  sea  wall),  which  really  is  used 
for  the  name  of  the  beautiful  shore  drive  that  skirts 
the  horse-shoe  curve  of  the  Havana  seashore  outside 
the  harbor.  I  have  referred  to  these  in  a  previous 
letter. 

At  the  intersection  of  the  Prado  and  the  Malecon 
is  a  magnificent  stone  band-stand,  surrounded  by 
many  seats.  With  this  band  stand  as  a  center,  there 
circles  a  broad  drive- way,  the  inner  curb  being  not 
less  than  one  hundred  feet  from  the  band  stand. 
This  drive- way  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  shore  drive 
and  the  Prado.  When  anyone  says  tb^'  will  meet 
you  at  the  Malecon,  this  is  the  spot  to  which  they 
refer.  Upon  certain  evenings,  three  times  a  week, 
there  is  music  from  eight  to  ten-thirty.  The  place 

48 


is  one  of  gala  attire.  On  the  seats  you  see  the  mid- 
dle classes;  it  costs  five  cents  per  person  to  sit  down. 
The  payment  of  the  price  is  honored  with  a  ticket, 
which  permits  the  taking  of  any  seat,  so  at  the 
intermission  you  get  up  and  walk  around  and 
around,  looking  at  the  others  and  showing  yourself. 
Circling  around  the  drive-way  are  handsome  equi- 
pages; they,  too,  driving  to  see  and  be  seen. 

I  spent  three  evenings  listening  to  the  music, 


Colon  Park,  which  is  located  at  the  Southern   end  of  the  Prado.     This 

Park  is  one  block  from  the  Quinta  Avenida   at  one  extremity, 

and  two  blocks  from  the  Tacoii  Market. 

dressed  in  light  blue  suit  and  summer  underwear, 
enjoying  the  cooling  breeze  from  the  Gulf,  and 
wondering  how  it  was  with  all  my  friends  up  North. 
The  Cubans  seem  to  be  a  music-loving  people,  and 
have  good  music  and  much  of  it  this  time  of  the 
year.  One  evening  I  attended  a  comic  opera.  I 
understood  about  one  word  in  a  thousand;  but  the 
music  was  good  and  I  could  smile  at  a  few  clownish 

49 


actions.  The  Carnival  season  began  on  the  twenty- 
fourth  of  February.  Of  course,  the  American  ball 
was  on  Washington's  birthday,  and  the  Cubans 
were  more  or  less  engaged  in  playfulness  on  that 
day. 

I  attended  two  Spanish  balls  by  invitation. 
Bvery  courtesy  is  extended  to  Americans.  These 
balls  were  masquerades,  and  were  both  given  by 
commercial  societies.  The  gorgeous  hues  and  mod- 
est tints  blended  and  changed  so  that  the  dancing 
floor  was  one  continuous  kaleidoscope  of  fascinating 
colors.  The  dancing  is  slow,  that  is  moderate,  a 
luxurious  method  for  one  who  likes  the  thrill  of 
music,  but  whose  activity  is  not  that  of  the  undevel- 
oped calf  and  cunning  kitten,  such  as  we  see  at  so 
many  of  our  so-called  "swell"  functions  of  the 
North.  Your  wanderer  has  learned  the  "Danza," 
and  if  it  is  possible  to  remember  it,  will  bring  it 
home  as  an  addition  to  his  vacation.  A  Cuban  lady 
at  the  American  ball  worked  hard  to  teach  me. 

The  balls  are  attended  by  men  in  business  suits; 
the  girls  in  fancy  costumes  or  light  dresses,  light 
in  color  and  weight,  except  a  deep  red,  which  is 
very  much  used.  Of  course,  the  "upper  ten,"  the 
diplomats  and  wealthy,  wear  evening  dress  at  their 
private  functions,  and  there  are  some  club  or  asso- 
ciation balls  that  seem  to  request  it. 

At  this  festal  season  there  are  balls  for  all.  The 
National  Theatre,  the  largest  theatre  in  Havana, 
conducts  a  masquerade  ball  for  three  nights, 
admission  one  dollar.  This  is  attended  by  negroes 
and  whites  indiscriminately,  and  there  seems  to  be 
no  distinction  in  the  selection  of  partners.  The 
dancing  floor  is  surrounded  by  a  tier  of  boxes,  and 
it  is  from  them  you  can  watch  the  dancers.  This 
ball  runs  until  four  or  five  A.  M.  Drinking  is  allow- 
ed in  the  cafe  in  front  of  the  theatre,  and  a  large 
court-yard,  which  has  a  dancing  floor  100x50  feet 

50 


and  a  bar;  both  these  drinking  places  belong  to  the 
theatre. 

Although  the  crowd  is  made  up  of  the  most 
heterogeneous  mass  of  the  poorest  and  worst  classes, 
perfect  order  is  maintained.  I  counted  no  less  than 
ten  policemen  on  the  dancing  floor.  They  never 
have  any  trouble,  I  am  informed  by  an  educated 
Cuban,  and  a  ball  of  this  kind  is  allowed  for  three 
days  once  every  year.  As  a  class,  the  Cubans  seem 
to  be  polite  at  all  times,  and  even  in  this  Bowery 
"Grande  Masque,"  gentle  manners  prevail.  I  will 
try  to  describe  the  Carnival  parade  in  my  next 
letter. 


Meat  Wagons  coming  down  the  Prado 
near  the  Pasaje  Hotel. 


61 


LETTER  IX. 

The    American    Ball — Alice   Roosevelt — President 
Palma  and  Alice  go  to  the  Theatre — Inde- 
pendence   Day — The  Carnival. 

This  is  Carnival  season  and  there  is  something 
going  on  all  the  time.  I  am  like  a  child  with 
a  circus  in  town,  three  Christmases  and  a  Sunday- 
school  picnic  all  at  once. 

One  morning  we  visited  the  Cabanas  and  Mono 
Castle;  in  the  afternoon  a  cigar  factory  and  a  candy 
bakeshop;  strolled  up  and  down  Obispo,  O'Reilly  and 
San  Rafael  streets.  Another  day  we  visited  the  cata- 
combs, the  orphan  asylum,  the  jail  and  a  real  candy 
factory,  the  "Estrella."  On  the  evening  of  Feb- 
ruary twenty-second  took  Mrs.  Knox  and  Mrs. 
Logan  to  the  American  ball.  We  saw  Alice  Roose- 
velt. She  had  on  a  yellow  dress,  Princess  style, 
not  lemon  or  orange,  but  between;  cut  low,  but  not 
very;  trimmed  on  the  edge  with  cord  en  train  about 
thirty-six  inches,  and  butterfly  bows  on  her  shoul- 
ders; one  string  of  pearls  around  her  neck,  and  one 
diamond  pin  in  her  hair.  Her  hair  is  brown,  and 
she  wears  it  low  over  her  forehead.  Her  com- 
plexion was  good,  as  were  her  features;  her  figure 
slender.  I  stood  alongside  of  her  for  about  six 
minutes.  She  very  considerately  walked  right  to 
where  I  stood  and  then  stopped.  She  behaved  her- 
self, under  what  anyone  would  admit  was  a  very 
difficult  occasion,  with  credit  to  herself  and  her 
country.  For  any  minor  details  of  costume,  con- 
sult Mrs.  K.  Knox  or  Mrs.  F.  T.  Ix>gan. 

I  might  mention  that  I  stood  on  the  balcony  of 

52 


the  American  Club,*  to  which  I  have  a  card,  and 
saw  President  Palma,  Alice  and  the  rest  go  to 
the  theatre.  That  was  on  another  evening.  I  have 


Jose  Marti  Monument  in  Central  Park.    The  leader  in  the  movement 

for  the  freedom   of  Cuba.     Marti  was  born  in  Havana   in  1853, 

and  killed  in  battle  in  1895.     He  is  credited  with  leading 

or  inspiring  the  revolution  which  began  Feb.  24,  1895. 

Feb  24  is  celebrated  in  Cuba  as  a  national  holiday. 

been  indebted  to  Charlie  Thrall  of  Havana  for  my 

card  to  the  club,  and  many  other  little  courtesies. 

February  24th  is  Independence  day  in  Cuba, 

*The  American  Club  is  in  the  white  building  facing  Central  Park. 
See  illustration,  page  24. 

53 


and  they  have  festivals;  first  for  three  days,  then 
for  the  following  three  Sundays.  I  have  not  been 
able  to  trace  the  connection  between  the  festivals 
and  Independence  day,  but  I  will  describe  the  fes- 
tivities. You  can  observe  the  balcony  of  the 
American  Club  on  the  left  hand  in  the  picture 
of  the  Prado,  page  24.  On  Saturday,  balls,  thea- 
tre parties,  etc.  Mrs.  Longworth  attended  the  grand 
opera.  All  the  diplomats  and  elite  in  their  best 
clothes  placed  themselves  on  exhibition,  and  Alice 


Street  Corner  Merchant,  opposite   American  Club,   corner 
Central  Park.    A  thriving  business  done  here  on  In- 
dependence day. 
54 


gazed  from  her  box  on  five  thousand  people  and 
five  thousand  people  gazed  at  Alice.  Not  less  than 
ten  thousand  people  were  on  the  outside,  until  the 
President's  party  drove  up,  to  see  our  representa- 
tives. From  the  vantage  point  of  the  balcony  of 
the  American  Club  I  watched  the  panorama. 

Sunday  was  celebrated  by  mass  in  the  churches 
in  the  morning  and  the  afternoon  given  over  to 
gaiety.  The  Prado  and  extension  about  a  mile  one 
way  was  a  parade  ground.  The  Prado  is  like  our 


Fruit  Vender. 

Midway  in  a  slight  degree.  The  center  has  a  broad 
cement  walk,  with  beautiful  laurel  trees  on  each 
side,  and  on  either  side  of  the  walk  is  a  broad  drive- 
way, then  sidewalk  again  and  then  the  buildings. 
Taking  the  two  drive-ways,  the  length  would 
approximate  two  miles. 

From  the  buildings  to  the  trees  hung  festoons 
of  many  colored  serpentine  confetti.  (Serpentine 
confetti  is  a  narrow  paper  ribbon  one-quarter  of 


55 


an  inch  wide. )  At  four  P.  M.  the  parade  started. 
It  consisted  of  two-horse  carriages,  horses  either 
tandem  or  side  by  side;  none  other  could  go  in 
the  parade.  In  these  carriages  rode  people  in 
masks  or  light  costumes,  much  dressing  being  done 
by  the  ladies.  Probably  half  of  the  carriages  con- 
tained people  in  gala  dress.  These  carriages  were 
festooned  with  serpentine  confetti.  This  confetti 
comes  in  bundles  made  up  of  a  number  of  little  coils, 
rolled  up  like  you  would  roll  up  a  tape  measure. 


Vegetable  Men. 

You  take  the  inside  end  and  hold  it  in  your  hand 
and  then  throw  the  coil;  this  sends  out  a  long 
streamer.  As  the  carriages  pass  along  the  spectators 
on  the  sidewalk  and  those  in  the  parade  have  a  bat- 
tle with  each  other,  throwing  confetti  until  the  car- 
riages are  covered  and  the  street  a  mass  of  confetti 
from  curb  to  curb.  The  street  being  wide,  it  was 
permitted  that  the  automobiles  and  one-horse  car- 
riages drive  along  with  the  parade,  but  not  of  it. 
These  vehicles  also  did  battle  with  the  paraders, 

56 


and  much  fun  and  jollity  ensued  thereby.  The 
firemen  had  a  bevy  of  beautiful  girls  (I  think  a  bevy 
is  about  a  dozen)  in  hose  wagons.  There  were  a 
few  other  special  wagons,  but  mostly  carriages. 

You  think  all  this  is  foolish,  but  the  first  thing 
you  know  you  are  buying  confetti  and  are  foolish 
with  the  rest.  I  rode  in  the  parade  one  day  and 
then  threw  confetti  the  other  two  days.  There  were 
four  of  us  busy,  one  about  eight  years,  one  about  ten 
years,  and  then  another  about  my  age,  and  thus  it 
is  we  pass  the  time  away. 


57 


LETTER  X. 

Tacon  Market — Visited  with  Young  Lady — Taken 

for  Married  Couple  and  Given  Fruit 

for  "Billy." 

Thursday  morning  I  arose  at  five-thirty  and 
at  six-thirty  met  a  young  lady  employed  at  an  in- 
formation and  ticket  office,  and  we  visited  the  Tacon 
Market  together.  I  was  much  interested  in  this 
market  and  had  been  there  several  times.  The  va- 
rious tropical  fruits  are  a  curiosity  to  me.  The  man 
in  charge  of  the  ticket  office  advised  me  to  see  it 


Picture  of  Meat  Wagon  taken  in  front  of  Market. 

early  in  the  morning,  and  it  was  thus  that  your  son 
"hiked"  out  of  bed  before  sunrise;  and  it  was 
worth  the  trouble. 

You  have  been  at  the  Twelfth  Street  Market  in 
Philadelphia;  well,  this  was  like  it,  only  so  differ- 
ent. It  was  men  selling  to  women,  the  women 


53 


buying  for  the  homes,  boarding-houses  and  hotels. 
The  swarthy  marketmen  and  the  stout,  soft-spoken 
senoras,  the  fruit  and  the  unknown  tongue,  made  it 
seem  strange.  We  ate  our  breakfast  (ham  and 
eggs  and  coffee)  in  the  market;  then,  with  what  lit- 
tle Spanish  I  could  command,  I  made  inquiries  for 
a  man  who  could  talk  English.  We  found  one,  a 
wholesale  dealer.  He  took  the  young  lady  and  I 
for  a  married  couple,  investigating  the  question  of 
household  economy  in  the  commissary  line.  He 
gave  us  some  fruit  for  our  boy,  whom  we  with 
audacious  mendacity  called  Billy.  He  was  delight- 
ed to  have  made  such  a  good  guess  and  referred  to 
the  mythical  Billy  frequently.  He  insisted  on  our 
taking  as  samples  two  cucumbers,  a  half  dozen 
tomatoes  and  some  unknown  vegetables,  but  I  shied 
when  he  pressed  us  to  take  a  couple  of  onions. 

To  appease  our  conscience,    we   bought   some 
alligator  pears,    a  pine-apple,    some  oranges    and 


Tobacco  Cart. 
59 


other  fruits,  thus  making  him  more  and  more  anx- 
ious to  hold  our  trade.  After  our  trading  we 
tramped  through  the  place.  I  do  not  know  when 
they  butcher,  but  the  meat  is  hauled  to  market  in 
very  peculiar  looking  wagons.  The  seat  is  like 


Bread  Man. 


that  in  the  ice  wagons  of  Chicago  and  is  wide 
enough  for  three  men  to  sit  side  by  side.  The  wa- 
gon's sides  and  ends  are  made  of  slats  that  slant 
downwards,  which  permits  the  circulation  of  air, 


60 


but  prevents  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun  to  penetrate. 
I  have  seen  negroes,  black  as  coal,  with  no  other 
clothing  on  except  a  shirt,  open  at  the  throat,  and 
sleeves  rolled  up,  and  with  trousers  rolled  up  knee 
high,  bare-footed  and  bare-headed,  hustling  this 
meat.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  more  I  see  of  meat 
down  here,  the  more  of  a  vegetarian  I  become. 
They  do  keep  their  vegetables  and  fruit  clean. 
They  keep  their  fish  in  tanks  and  chickens  on 
the  roof  in  this  market.  It  is  very  large  and 
very  good.  I  have  been  back  several  times,  and 
always  receive  a  welcome  from  my  man. 


LETTER  XL 

Gambling  Once  Prevalent   now  a  Thing  of  the 
Past— A  Lucky  Draw  of  $3,0001 

Outside  of  the  Jai-lai  games  I  have  not  seen 
any  gambling  in  Havana,  but  I  have  been  told  that 
in  the  forties,  lotteries  were  a  great  institution;  and 
in  the  year  1989,  Richard  Henry  Dana,  Jr.,  in 
writing  about  Havana,  said  that  the  city  was 
flooded  with  lottery  ticket- venders.  Tickets  were 
for  a  grand  lottery  which  was  guaranteed  by  the 
government.  The  slaves  would  beg  and  steal  in 
order  to  buy  lottery  tickets  in  the  hope  of  securing 
a  prize  and  thereby  be  able  to  purchase  their 
rreedom. 

I  was  talking  about  lotteries  with  a  young 
Frenchman,  who  acted  as  my  guide  on  numerous 
occasions  and  who  also  spoke  the  Spanish  language. 
He  took  from  his  pocket  an  old  lottery  ticket  of 
1843  and  gave  it  to  me.  It  was  a  prize-winner, 
having  won  three  thousand  pesos  or  Spanish  dol- 
lars, the  receipt  for  the  money  having  been  written 
on  tile  back.  He  said  the  title  was  "Royal  Lottery 
of  the  Ever  Faithful  Island  of  Cuba."  The  draw- 
ings were  monthly,  with  a  prize  list  of  $120,000,  but 
once  a  year  it  was  $180,000.  This  lottery,  he  said, 
yielded  the  Spanish  crown  over  |2,000,000  a  year, 
which,  with  a  total  in  prizes  of  $15,000,000  a  year, 
shows  what  an  immense  sum  must  have  changed 
hands  on  the  drawing  of  a  few  numbers.  The 
ticket  I  have  is  a  four  pesos  or  four  dollar  ticket, 
but  it  could  have  been  sold  in  fourths  had  the  pur- 


Reverse   side  showing  receipt  for 
13.000  which  this  ticket  won. 


b'ace  of  the  ticket. 


Reduced   reproduction   of   pottery   Ticket  of  Aug.  22,    1843.     The 
winner  received  3000  Pesos  on   Sept.    16,  1843,  and  receipted  on  back 
of  ticket. 


chaser  only  wanted  to  venture  one  dollar.  It  seems, 
however,  that  Senor  L,opez  was  a  plunger,  for  he 
bought  the  whole  ticket.  There  are  many  stories, 
he  said,  of  trouble  occurring  because  of  the  lottery, 
and  it  had  been  suppressed  in  Cuba,  but  it  seems 
that  the  inhabitants  still  send  money  to  Spain  to 
take  their  chances  on  the  Spanish  lottery.  I  do  not 
know  whether  this  ticket  is  of  any  particular  value 
as  a  curiosity,  but  as  it  is  very  old  and  will  not 
stand  much  handling,  I  will  have  a  photograph 
made  of  it  when  I  return  home. 


[LETTER  XII. 


An  Enjoyable  Evening — Visit  to  a  Sugar  Mill — 

How  the  Sugar  is  Made — Merely  a  Kitchen 

Doing  Business. 

The  other  evening,  at  our  hotel,  we  gathered 
around  the  corridor,  which  answers  for  a  hotel  par- 
lor, and  chatted  in  Spanish.  After  a  short  time  one 
of  the  party  sat  at  the  piano  and  drummed  a  simple 
air.  Soon  a  hum  of  music  started,  and  from  seven- 
forty-five  until  ten-fifteen  we  had  one  continuous 
musical  performance  with  occasional  dances;  the 
dancing  very  moderate.  Many  Spanish  songs  were 
sung  and  we  had  a  duet;  two  Spanish  ladies  sang 
it,  a  soprano  and  an  alto — something  exquisite.  I 
was  informed  that  the  ladies  were  noted  for  their 
voices.  I  have  heard  much  music  since  I  came 
here  and  have  enjoyed  it. 

The  other  day  I  expended  the  sum  of  three 
dollars  and  joined  a  party  going  to  a  sugar-mill. 
We  had  a  five-seated  automobile,  four  to  a  seat. 
The  guide  said  it  was  a  forty-mile  ride.  Later  on 
I  was  told  it  was  a  thirty-mile  ride.  Well,  what- 
ever it  was,  it  was  dusty.  I  wore  my  light  blue  suit 
and  it  became  gray  by  the  time  I  returned.  The 
dust  works  through  the  clothing.  I  had  to  change 
everything  and  take  a  bath  when  I  returned. 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  was 
much  the  same  as  we  saw  from  the  train  window 
going  to  Matanzas,  but  hardly  so  beautiful.  The 
roads  were  like  turn-pikes  made  from  very  soft 

65 


limestone,  and  the  wind  and  moving  car  kept  a 
cloud  of  dust  flying,  so  possibly  our  perceptions 
were  beclouded.  The  road  was  lined  with  trees  along 
each  side,  and  was  one  continuoxis  avenue  of  palms, 
laurels,  locusts,  cocoanuts  and  other  trees.  For 
the  greater  part  of  the  way  the  fields  were  separated 
from  the  road  by  a  living  fence  of  cacti.  We  passed 
many  two-wheel  carts  piled  high  with  sugar-cane, 


Second  floor  of  the  Quinta  Avenida.  Here  is  where  we 
gathered  in  the  evening  to  sing  and  to  converse.  It 
is  one  side  of  the  covered  porch  and  would  be  called 
the  hotel  parlor.  The  other  three  sides  were  used  as 
dining-rooms.  Bed-rooms  opened  off  these  corridors. 

66 


all  being  hauled  by  two,  four  or  six  oxen.  We 
saw  sugar-cane  twenty  feet  high  growing  in  the 
fields  we  passed;  its  plumed  tops  waving  in  the 
breeze  made  a  graceful  sight  and  filled  the  hearts  of 
the  ladies  with  a  desire  for  plumes,  so  we  stopped 
and  got  one  for  each  lady. 

The  mill  we  visited  has  a  capacity  of  fifty 
thousand  bags  of  sugar  a  year,  and  is  running  at 
half  its  capacity  because  of  a  scarcity  of  cane.  The 


Plowing  on  a  Cuban  Sugar  Plantation. 

sugar-cane  is  brought  in  carts  to  a  run-way  and 
conve3ror,  and  is  hauled  up  on  an  endless  chain  to  a 
crusher,  the  solid  part  of  the  cane  passing  out  at 
one  end,  the  juice  running  out  below.  The  cane 
pulp  is  burned  under  the  boilers  and  the  juice  is 
strained  and  boiled.  It  passes  through  three  or  four 
different  cookings  in  pots  before  the  brown  sugar  is 
"shot"  into  bags  for  shipping.  At  the  first  cooking 
the  juice  was  in  open  pots  that  we  could  look  at, 


and  it  had  a  scum  six  inches  deep  on  top — just 
mud.  The  final  process  consists  in  putting  it  in  a 
centrifugal  machine  to  separate  the  sugar  from  the 
molasses.  I  was  glad  I  saw  the  mill,  for  I  will 
know  more  about  sugar  mills  when  I  read  about 
them.  However,  the  day  was  hot  and  dusty  and 
the  mill  was  a  kitchen  doing  business,  and  none  of 
us  could  enthuse  very  much.  The  sugar  industry 
is  a  large  one  in  Cuba  and  has  made  many  people 
very  wealthy. 

I  expect  to  leave  at  five  o'clock  Monday  after- 
noon. From  now  on  I  will  take  things  easy.  Have 
seen  nearly  all  the  sights  and  can  read  the  history 
of  Cuba  with  interest. 


Cutting  Cane  on  a  Cuban  Sugar  Plantation. 


A  Modern  Sugar  Mill  in  Cuba. 


Ox  Cart  similar  to  those  used  to  haul  sugar-cane. 


LETTER  XIII. 


Cabanas  and  Morro  again  Visited — Another  Car- 
nival Parade — Preparing  to  Leave. 

I  sent  several  packages  of  postal  cards  and 
films  to  Margaret  to-day.  I  have  tried  to  have  some- 
thing moving  in  the  mails  at  all  possible  times,  but 
no  doubt  you  do  not  receive  anything  for  several 
days,  and  then  several  pieces  of  mail  at  one  time. 

To-day  I  went  to  Cabanas  and  Morro  Castle 
for  the  second  time;  only  two  in  the  party  and  a 
very  interesting  guide.  The  first  time  I  went  there 
was  a  party  of  twenty-two  and  it  was  unsatisfactory. 
It  was  by  accident  that  I  had  the  second  opportu- 
nity. The  old  fortifications  are  very  interesting. 
Morro  Castle  was  completed  in  1597,  a  fac-simile  of 
a  Moorish  fortress  at  Lisbon.  I  cannot  describe  it, 
for  it  would  take  too  long.  It  is  all  rock,  part  cut 
out  of  a  solid  promontory  of  rock  and  part  built  of 
masonry.  There  is  lots  of  history  connected  with 
it  and  the  guides  are  making  new  history  every 
day.  This  history-making  business  is  easy;  all  you 
need  is  a  good  imagination  and  an  easy  conscience 
and  you  are  off.  Morro  is  on  the  point  opposite 
Havana  and  lying  back  of  it;  along  the  shore  is 
Cabanas  or  Cabana.  Cabana  was  completed  in  1774 
and  cost  $14,000,000.  I  do  not  know  who  kept  the 
books,  but  do  know  that  prices  in  Havana  are  high 
at  the  present  time.  Cabana  is  used  as  a  barracks 
for  the  Cuban  soldiers.  You  can  get  a  splendid 
view  of  the  city  and  harbor  from  there.  Inside  the 

70 


Cabana  is  a  labyrinth  of  turnings  and  ways;   you 
can  lose  yourself. 

In  both  Cabana  and  Morro  you  see  dungeons, 
prisons,  decrepit  guns  and  useless  cannon  balls. 
They  are  not  worth  much  except  as  relics  and  inte- 
resting historical  exhibits.  Everyone  seemed  to 
think  that  I,  too,  was  a  curiosity,  because  I  went 
over  the  same  ground  twice.  The  best  way  to  go, 


Morro  Castle  in  a  Storm. 

though,  is  for   two  or  three  people  to   hire  a  guide 
and  make  it  a  small  excursion. 

It  grew  extremely  warm  to-day  and  I  rested  all 
the  afternoon.  At  four  P.  M.  another  carnival 
parade  started,  just  like  the  one  about  which  I 
wrote.  Sunday  stops  at  noon  here.  Church  be- 
gins early,  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  As  I  sit 
in  my  room  I  hear  the  music  of  a  ball  just  across 
the  street.  I  know  of  at  least  six  balls  going  on 


71 


Dead  L,ine  and  Interior  of  Cabanas  Fortress. 


View  of  Parapet  of  Fort  Cabanas. 
72 


this  evening.  I  passed  them  all  coming  from  Mr. 
L,ychenheim's  home  to  my  room. 

The  cafes  are  crowded  with  masqueraders  and 
people  in  gala  attire,  and  everyone  is  cheerful  and 
happy.  These  people  are  like  children  in  many 
ways.  I  spent  the  evening  with  Mr.  J.  Lychen- 
heim  and  his  wife  in  their  apartments.  He  was 
a  class-mate  of  mine  and  has  been  exceedingly 
courteous  to  me.  I  came  home  at  eleven,  but 
will  not  be  able  to  sleep  for  the  noise,  gaiety  and 
music  that  keeps  floating  up  from  the  streets;  so 
I  thought  I  would  write  these  few  lines  to  you  to- 
night and  mail  them,  as  I  will  be  busy  making 
my  arrangements  to  leave  in  the  morning.  I  am 
having  difficulty  about  my  state-room.  The 
steamer  on  which  I  sail  has  not  come  in.  We  are 
supposed  to  leave  at  five  P.  M.,  but,  no  doubt, 
it  will  be  morning  before  we  clear,  so  I  will  mail 
this  now. 

You  noticed  in  a  previous  letter  that  I  said  we 
expect  to  leave  five  P.  M.  Monday,  and  now  we  are 
supposed  to  leave  at  five  P.  M.  I  will  write  you 
another  letter  on  the  steamer  and  then  it  will  be 
definite.  In  this  warm  and  luxurious  climate  many 
things  have  to  wait  until  after  they  happen  before 
you  can  fix  the  time.  I  am  frequently  ahead  of  time 
when  I  am  late.  I  will  mail  a  postal  at  the  wharf 
before  I  get  on  the  steamer. 


73 


LETTER  XIV. 

State-room  Troubles — En  Voyage — Parting  Views 
of  Havana. 

My  steamer  was  expected  to  leave  Monday  at 
five  P.  M. ;  then  there  was  a  supposition  to  that 
effect.  Well,  it  is  two  P.  M.  Tuesday  and  we  are 
now  outside  the  harbor,  having  left  at  one  P.  M. 
Tuesday,  March  6th.  I  am  on  the  Yucatan,  bound 
for  Vera  Cruz,  with  one  stop  scheduled  at 
Progresso. 

On  Monday  I  made  no  less  than  five  trips  to 
the  office  of  the  Ward  L,ine  to  get  my  state-room. 
My  trunk  and  other  baggage  was  at  the  express 
office  but  could  not  be  delivered  until  I  had  my 
reservation,  and  at  six  P.  M.  my  efforts  were  still 
unsuccessful.  My  room  at  the  Quinta  Avenida  had 
been  given  up,  my  baggage  was  in  possession  of  the 
Southern  Express  Company,  and  word  given  that 
no  one  could  go  aboard  the  steamer  until  Tues- 
day morning  at  eleven.  The  manager  of  the  ex- 
press company  was  a  brick ;  he  put  me  on  the  track 
of  a  room,  and  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  locate  one  in 
a  rush,  for  Havana  is  crowded  to  its  limit  at  this 
time;  he  also  hunted  up  my  dress  suit  case. 

It  was  hot  Monday  night  and  early  Tuesday  I 
was  astir;  at  eight  o'clock  stood  waiting  in  line 
with  others  for  my  state-room;  at  nine  o'clock,  tri- 
umphant, I  sought  the  express  company,  and  left 
instructions  for  the  delivery  of  my  baggage.  In- 
cidentally, I  might  mention  I  hired  a  carriage  and 

74 


made  my  rounds  in  comfort;  a  few  good-byes  to 
friends  who  had  been  kind  to  me,  and  then  to  the 
wharf. 

The  United  States  will  quarantine  against 
Havana  on  March  15th,  and  all  passengers  leaving 
Havana  are  examined.  The  doctor  has  his  office 
above  the  landing  stage.  You  go  upstairs  and  wait, 
and  when  your  turn  comes  you  present  your  ticket, 
and  if  you  are  going  to  any  port  in  the  United 
States,  he  places  his  finger  down  your  neck,  be- 
tween your  collar  and  neck  (not  down  your  throat, 
as  some  people  thought  he  would  do),  and  feels 
your  temperature.  If  you  have  no  signs  of  fever 
you  are  immediately  passed,  but  if  your  tem- 
perature is  above  normal  and  skin  dry,  you  stand 
to  one  side  to  await  further  examination. 

When  I  showed  my  ticket  for  Vera  Cruz  he 
only  smiled  and  said,  "It  would  be  different  if  you 
were  coming  from  there."  Vera  Cruz  has  yellow 
fever  much  of  the  time.  Havana  is  the  cleanest 
city  I  have  been  in,  as  far  as  one  can  see.  You  will 
notice  in  every  part  of  the  city  a  half  dozen  or  more 
men  going  around  with  oil  cans;  these  are  sanitary 
gangs.  The  streets  are  clean  and  are  kept  clean  all 
of  the  time.  You  will  always  see  "White  Wings" 
uniformed  street  cleaners  working.  On  March  5th 
there  was  not  a  single  case  of  yellow  fever  in 
Havana. 

By  eleven  o'clock  I  was  on  the  lighter,  and 
by  noon  my  baggage  was  in  my  state-room,  and  I 
was  ready  to  take  my  leave  of  the  city  that  had 
treated  me  kindly,  had  added  to  my  knowledge  of 
the  ways  of  mankind,  and  given  to  me  memories 
that  will  be  pleasant  reminiscences  as  life's  days 
fade  one  by  one  into  the  everlasting  past. 

I  stood  by  the  rail  gazing  upon  the  busy  scene; 
the  time  slipped  by  and  soon  we  started  on  our 
journey.  The  wreck  of  the  "Maine, ' '  the  vessels  of 
various  nationalities,  the  guadanos  or  harbor 

75 


boats,  the  wharves,  the  Presidio,  the  Punta, 
Cabanas  and  Morro,  all  seemed  to  glide  past  us. 
I  viewed  the  scenes  with  my  physical  sight,  and 
from  the  inner  vision  of  the  mind  I  pictured  them 
as  they  had  been.  The  old  flag  floating  over 
Cabanas  seemed  to  wave  me  a  parting  salute,  old 
Morro  gave  me  a  friendly  nod,  and  the  Punta 
seemed  to  be  reaching  out  to  hold  me  back.  The 
world  is  full  of  sentiment;  we  could  not  live  without 
it,  and  I  could  not  but  feel  a  tinge  of  sadness  as 


View  of  Havana. 

gradually  we  made  our  way  into  the  welcoming 
waters  of  the  Gulf,  seeing  the  places  I  had  come  so 
far  to  see  fading  into  the  dim  distance. 

The  day  was  one  of  superb  beauty.  We  turned 
Westward,  the  view  almost  indescribabty  entranc- 
ing; the  sea  dark  blue  along  shore,  deep  green 
farther  out;  the  houses  in  the  bright  sunlight  show- 
ing up  the  tinted  pinks,  blues  and  greens,  the  shades 
of  yellow  and  browns,  the  dark  red  roofs,  the  back- 


ground  of  verdant  vegetation,  and  over  all  the  blue 
sky,  flecked  here  and  there  with  a  tiny  cloud. 

But  now  we  must  think  of  many  things  beside 
the  beautiful.  I  have  written  you  my  last  letter  of 
Cuba  and  a  few  impressions,  and  am  called  to  other 
work,  as  the  dinner  has  been  announced.  The  air 
is  bracing  and  my  appetite  in  trim.  This  steamer 
has  a  good  steward,  a  German  cook,  and  he  serves 
five  meals  a  day,  and  an  imitation  breakfast,  if  you 
want  it,  real  early  —  a  real  nice  breakfast  at  seven. 
As  it  was  too  hot  in  Havana  to  eat  much,  and  my 
many  years  of  training  on  Northern  cooking  sort  of 
put  me  out  of  line  on  the  Havana  style  of  food,  I 
am  promising  myself  that  I  will  enjoy  a  few  extra 
meals.  This  letter  will  be  mailed  March  9th  at 
Progresso  and  should  reach  Chicago  March  19th. 


77 


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